Only Whispers Remember Me
by bbb136
Summary: There's a desert and a thief. There's a prince and a pendant. And blood. One can't find love and the other can't accept it. But here's the question, which one's which?  AU
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Only Whispers Remember (Me).

**Author: **bbb136

**Beta: **Rocket-ship-Romance. (Thank you!)

**A/N. **I've been playing with this story for quite a while and I feel like it's time I posted it. I watched _Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon _a while back and I thought that the basic idea from this five minute flash back –which made no sense at all actually- had real potential and decided that no pairing was more appropriate for it than Akuroku. –But relax, I'm not bringing in any of the films plot in so you're not going to be reading one of those 'synopsis's with different names' which I see around on here. ;]

I hope you enjoy it. :D Are you excited? I am.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kingdom Hearts or the film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon from which the inspiration to write this came from. This is a work of fiction set in AU Ancient China.

* * *

><p>There's a figure on the cliff.<em><br>_

_When you were younger you used to tell me not to treat you like a child, that you could take on the world if you were only given the chance. But the world doesn't work like that- you have to take your chance and run with it._

_Escape your chains and I'll never treat you like a child ever again._

_(But you'll always be one in my eyes.)_

* * *

><p>The caravan slowly made its way across the barren land, stretching down the rocky and almost invisible desert road like a particularly fat snake. The convoy was made up of eleven simple wagons each transporting several packages, their attendants all as stone faced and silent as the very rocks they trod on. At the front and rear rode a squad of around thirty armed guards, all on horseback and all visibly slouching in their saddles; the intense heat having crushed their spirits only a few hours into the trip. Now; on the second morning of the five-day journey across the harsh sands of the Great Western Desert, the general mood was bleak.<p>

In the very middle of the procession flanked by more wearied guards was a luxurious carriage, toned cream and ivory like the twin mares that pulled it along the path. Unlike the surrounding vehicles and men who all sagged under the weight of the sun, the carriage stood tall and proud, light reflecting off its sides and forcing the servants walking behind to subtly grimace and shield their eyes.

Sitting inside the carriage on cushioned seats, protected from the unforgiving rays and their entourage's attention by a veil, two prominent members of the Tàiyáng family did their best to ignore the others existence.

The elder; an elegant lady who despite not being in the prime of her youth still possessed a radiant beauty heightened by the deep pinks of her dress held a scroll in pale hands, resting it in her lap while she read. The elderly female attendant on her right was sewing, wrinkled eyes kept lowered out of respect.

The only other occupant of the compartment was a boy clothed in the traditional green, who like the beautiful woman had eyes the colour of the deep sky and hair as golden as their namesake, the sun itself.

The postures of the two blondes were both poised yet relaxed, however while the woman's brow was creased in sadness the boy's expression showed nothing but dissatisfaction.

Roxas ran a single practiced finger over the tiny ridges of the Tàiyáng crest, dangling the engraved emerald amulet in front in his face with one hand as he repeated his motions. His mother, wearing an identical frown to his gave a soft sigh, the touch of frustration evident in her warm gaze.

"Roxas," She said quietly, her musical voice breaking the empty silence. Her son obediently raised his eyes to hers but his lips remained down turned. "Please put that away."

He glanced at the swaying amulet for another second before obeying. "I didn't realize it was a bother to you, mother," He murmured tonelessly. "I apologize."

The woman shook her head disapprovingly at the familiar lie. "You know I do not like it when you- you _play_ with the family crest in such a careless manner. It is a habit you must be rid of by the time we arrive at your fiancees home, for the heir to the Tàiyáng family cannot act like a young child and I – honestly Roxas this is the sort of thing I expect to have to tell your younger brother not _you_."

"I understand mother."

Elena Tàiyáng pursed her lips at her son's dismissive tone but said nothing more.

His actions, not only against an elder but against his own _mother_ had been growing increasingly impolite recently. She was at a loss for an explanation why though; she like the rest of the household thought that Roxas would be more cheerful having successfully negotiated with his father to have him marry Lady Namine over his brother, Sora, but this clearly was not the case.

Shifting slightly in her seat, Lady Tàiyáng murmured a soundless prayer to the Gods, pleading with them for help to deal with her unruly child. Roxas's behaviour was gradually beginning to mimic that of her first son, and that worried her. Greatly.

* * *

><p>Unknown to the tired procession almost a hundred pairs of hungry eyes and hungry blades waited restlessly behind a high ridge.<p>

The bandits, the outlaws, the thieves readjusted their grips on the reins of their horses and weapons, staring transfixed at the promises of wealth that travelled at such a tantalizingly slow pace on the road below them. The air was thick with tension and more than one bandit had nearly lunged his horse forward because the urge to ride, to slice, to kill and steal was so great that holding back was getting harder and harder. But no one dared to move without the order.

The leader looked on.

While the swarm of bandits behind him constantly fidgeted and itched to push their beasts forward to charge down the hill in a shuddering craze, he remained still. His tawny coloured colt stood calmly at the edge of the slope, patiently awaiting the nudge of its master's boot.

The leader gave his mount a warning pat.

When the caravan had nearly passed the bottom of the hill by, the leader finally raised his sword above his head and let go a loud war cry, a war cry that was quickly echoed by his men as they followed him charging full speed down the hill, cold metal teeth bared wide.

* * *

><p>The desperate yell of "Bandits!" was the only warning the Tàiyáng convoy got before chaos descended.<p>

The sheer suddenness of the _noise _that erupted actually caused Roxas to raise his hands half way to his ears in a subconscious attempt to lessen the impact. The harsh sound of blades clashing and pained grunts quickly swamped the small space but the thick veils blocked the blonde's view of the situation; something he sort quickly to remedy.

His hand shot out and urgently tugged on the veils, but they had been too well fixed across the windows to withstand the desert wind- so after a few unsuccessful jerks he abandoned the idea. Roxas thought briefly about using his hidden dagger to simply cut straight through the material- until he remembered that it was inappropriate for someone of his standing to travel armed and that he'd never actually carried a blade _so why he was even considering that? _

"Roxas, stay down!" His mother whispered furiously. "Don't attract any more attention!"

Unsurprisingly his mother and her attendant had reacted in the same way a cornered mouse would do – curling up and trying to hide. Roxas had never been able to understand how a predator could smell fear –and he wondered how someone had even been able to find that information out- but looking at the huddled forms of the two terrified women he could start to see where the idea came from.

Roxas couldn't recount a time where he'd ever been more thankful for being so dedicated to training with the traditional fighting techniques and lessons (and then some) expected of his rank. Then again, this was the first time an attack had come on him before. His mother was a little more accustomed to it –the Tàiyáng clan was well known to be extremely rich and influential - though that wouldn't be apparent by the way she was acting now.

"Boy- _sit down_ what on earth do you think you're doing?"

Said boy turned round and glared stubbornly, frozen in his position of being about to open the doors. "Isn't it obvious mother?" Roxas replied. "I'm going out to help fight off the attack."

"_Don't be absurd_ we have _guards_ for that-"

"But I could help, I could save lives, I would be _useful_, mother, so with all due respect I can't just sit here and pray." Roxas scanned his mother fluidly. Everything about her betrayed her true feelings; her hunched posture, her shaking hands, the way she let her elderly attendant get so close but most of all, her shining eyes.

There was this strange but popular belief in the lower branches of the Tàiyáng family, which said that a person's entire history could be read by a single look if that person had blue eyes. His father dismissed the claims (like he did with all the stories levelled at his foreign bride and their children) and therefore Roxas did too, but he was always reminded of it whenever he looked upon his mother or his brother.

"_Roxas_!"

He hurriedly blinked out of his reverie – repeatedly getting lost in his thoughts was starting to get very annoying, especially in a _less-than-safe_ situation – and gave his mother a reassuring nod before jumping out of the carriage. The blonde glanced back just in time to see the woman faint before the door slammed shut again.

Almost instantly someone tried to swipe a knife across his throat –Roxas quickly intercepted the weapon with the base of his hand and performed a butterfly kick to knock his attacker – a bandit in a red scarf- unconscious. His feet hadn't touched the ground before another bandit –correction; two bandits- were upon him waving swords.

Roxas bent backwards and snatched up the fallen dagger with his right hand while holding himself up on his left, recovering just in time to parry one blow and dodge the other. The two bandits made the mistake of hesitating at his speed – it was all the time he needed.

* * *

><p>The convoy's guards were remarkably resilient- well; their heavy armour was at any rate. Axel swung his blade and a nameless man screamed and died. Yes, the armour definitely was good quality. He'd have to remember to get one of his men to save the arm guards for him before the bodies were stripped.<p>

Axel cut down another man and the surrounding bandits immediately closed in on the unprotected wagon, then hastily recoiling after he sent them a look that dared one to even _think_ of touching the goods before they were done.

Another swing of his sword, another desperate gurgle. The guards were beginning to thin. The unarmed servants were already dead, the bandits having already taken the easy ones out, like usual.

While Axel disliked showing mercy to anyone, be it the last survivor of a raid or a friend who'd betrayed him to ensure the safety of another, there was something about killing a defenceless person which he just didn't approve of. He still did it of course, but it never did bring much satisfaction.

A brief yell sounded from somewhere behind him – Axel recognised the voice to belong to one of his own men (_Tay? Tein? Tane?_) and he wondered if the lucky strike had been fatal. A part of him hoped it had; that particular bandit had been a thorn in his side ever since he'd first made contact with the thieves, his death would be a welcome relief.

Axel deftly threw a knife he'd snatched from his boot at the last guard; grinning triumphantly when it pierced the unprotected flesh of the neck and the man dropped to his knees, head lolling as blood rushed out of the wound and onto the golden sand. Either way, the battle was as good as won.

It was only when two other familiar voices echoed Tane's cry, shortly followed by a foreign curse and his own name loudly shouted did Axel feel doubt, and look back over his shoulder.

What he saw confused him to no end.

While his end of the convoy was now clear of guards the other end; the front, there were at least _six_ still fighting. Axel furrowed his brow – the bulk of his men had attacked the front, the procession should have been dealt with long before now- and urged Sauveter to trot over after giving the order for the bandits at his end to start sorting through the wagons.

As much as he admired a fighter who refused to accept defeat this praise tended to be restricted to only those on _his_ side. Besides, the ambush had lost its thrill very early on. Untrained servants and tired guards did not make for a good fight, no matter how many of them there were.

But as he neared the front, passing the silent carriage with its no doubt helpless occupants he felt his interest spark once more.

What he had originally believed to be six, stubborn guards was actually five, and one, stubborn boy wearing clothes more befitting of a _noble _than a mere manservant.

Axel's eyes widened as he watched the foreign -no one born in China could possibly have blonde hair, he would know- boy quickly defeat men twice his size using a mixture of traditional sword fighting and what appeared to be… kung-fu?

Axel wondered where he'd learnt _that._

"Thank god you're here boss!" The pained voice came from his right and he looked at the frustrated bandit who had spoken, noticing but not at all caring at how the man favoured his left leg. "That brat's been giving us so much damn trouble! He just came outta' nowhere and started taking everybody out!"

Axel raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I'm not joking boss. It's damn hard to put a hit on him too- boy moves so fast it's unnatural, he knocked _Lee _out for gods sake!"

At the mention of his second in commands name Axel stiffened. "_What_?" He shot the man a disbelieving look.

The bandit nodded grimly. "The boy beat Lee boss, and it only took him two hits." They both glanced back to where the blonde was fighting three men at once- and winning. For some reason Axel found the sight oddly familiar. " I've never seen anybody fight like that, especially a bloody noble."

"We're certain he's a noble?"

"Not in my thirty years have I ever seen a servant wear clothes as fine as those, though I don't know why the hell he's out here instead of crying in his carriage." The man spat on the ground before glaring at the blonde and green blur. "Nobles; useless, greedy bastards the lot of them."

Axel snorted, sliding off of his horse and wiping the sweat from his face. "Apparently not."

"What are we supposed to do with him boss?" The bandit asked as he took Sauveter's reins. "He's not stopping and none of us can even land a hit."

"Leave that to me."

The bandit nodded and turned back to watch the fight, an action copied by the rest of the observing thieves who had all been equally lost and had tried to subtly eavesdrop on their conversation. Axel made a mental note to never use any of them for spying, should a situation in the future call for it. But right now that wasn't important.

Axel leant back and folded his arms, his eyes tracking the noble's progress across the sands. _What should I do with you?_

* * *

><p>His body was beginning to burn.<p>

He had impressive stamina for a boy his age and he knew it, but under the hot sun and seemingly endless onslaught of enemies his limit was approaching quickly. Dangerously quickly.

Roxas sidestepped a large swing of a sword and delivered a neat blow to the back of his attackers head; he went sprawling across the ground.

The expression on his head guard's face when Roxas had first defended him from a killing blow had been far from happy (although the man's eyes had been grateful) and Roxas had no doubt that if the situation wasn't so serious Oren would have forced him back inside the carriage, but as it were Oren could spare no attention to him so Roxas could continue to fight without being interrupted.

He felt pity for Oren and the remaining soldiers nerves however- he could not even begin to imagine his fathers rage should he hear that his heir was left unprotected in a battle where his best guards were falling left and right.

Roxas thus resolved to ensure no word of his interference reached his fathers ears, although as he dodged more thieves' attacks he could feel his confidence in the battle's outcome gradually being battered down.

There were only five guards left, including Oren. When he'd first leapt out of his carriage there had been at least thirty.

They were losing.

Slowly, and stubbornly, but it was only a matter of time until their six became five, then four, three, two, one and eventually his mother would have no one to protect her. Those _creatures _would pick through their belongings with their filthy hands and suddenly Roxas remembered that for a woman in particular there were far worse things than death, and the bandit that had been persistently dodging his blade fell to the ground in a flash of red.

* * *

><p>All of a sudden the noble became a lot more bloodthirsty.<p>

Before the blonde had only killed a few and merely disabled the others, now all men who were too slow had their blood spilt, while the ones more light on their feet were able to dance narrowly out of harms way. Unfortunately for Axel the majority of the boy's challengers fell into the first category.

Axel gave an irritable sigh and tried to figure out the reasons behind the strange attitude change, then quickly put it down to desperation. The boy was on the losing side after all.

But that boy was definitely refusing to accept defeat – at the cost of Axel's men.

He'd already lost at least ten today.

Time to end it.

Axel whistled twice and gestured with his fingers. His bandits retreated from the converging masses of bodies to form a ring around the six –well… five now, _that certainly was a strong swing Kinterl_- still on their feet.

The guards all looked around in confusion before remembering their duty (or something pointless like that) and forming defensive positions around the blonde, who did not look the slightest bit pleased by the arrangement.

He hissed something inaudible at one but the guard in question just shook his head and focused his eyes on his men, making a bizarre hand signal which Axel did not understand but guessed it to be an order to 'stay put'. The boy looked so exasperated by the action that Axel nearly smiled.

Then he caught sight of Lee's crumpled form lying still next to three other bloodied figures.

Something in Axel's mind snapped and anything that could even resemble a smile vanished from his face.

It was definitely time to end it.

* * *

><p>"What are you doing?" Roxas whispered to Oren furiously. "I'm fine – protect my mother!"<p>

To his annoyance Oren merely shook his head in answer and signalled for the other convey guards to hold their position – _why were they so determined to be so useless?_

The boy readjusted his grip on his stolen blade as he shot his head-guard a glare. He could hear the voice of his teacher in his head, sternly reminding him that _reckless decisions cost lives _but Roxas could not bring himself to listen, worry taking hold of his heart like a choking weed would a garden.

Only the twisting feeling in his gut prevented him from trying to get back to the carriage.

_What are they waiting for? _Roxas eyed the masses of bandits warily, all of whom seemed content to stand back and observe… what exactly? Them? They weren't doing anything!

The guard crouching next to Roxas abruptly stiffened. "Sir…" The blonde took one look at him and blanched – the horror on his face could not bode well.

"Yes?" Oren murmured impatiently, sounding distracted.

"It's _him_- it's-" The man could not finish his sentence. Someone did it for him.

"Someone you _really _don't want to anger."

Roxas immediately pivoted on his heel to face the direction where the voice came from but froze, fear mixed with sheer surprise stopping him in his tracks. A gap had appeared in the human wall, allowing the most exotic man Roxas had ever seen to stroll through.

The first thing Roxas noticed was the hair.

Its colour was a blazing red; the red of hot coals and rich dyes used for royal weddings, the red so reminiscent of fresh blood. It wasn't cut, braided or pulled back either; the hair was long, wild and reached past the man's shoulders.

Roxas could remember his mother once remarking that 'only drunkards with no decency or self-respect' wore their hair long. (The visiting nobleman's son who this had been directed at chose to pretend that he hadn't heard. Roxas and his brother had to listen to their mother complain for weeks.) While the blonde couldn't speak for any of the other accusations it was clear by how the redhead held himself and how the surrounding bandits were so in awe of him that self-respect was not an issue.

His skin was pale –far paler than expected for one who traversed the deserts- and his features were sharp and angled, but while he didn't appear remotely feminine Roxas suspected that many girls would be jealous of those cheekbones. He also had two tear shaped markings under each eye- but his eyes were by far the most striking, being a piercing green which Roxas had only ever seen in the outlying fields of his home.

Those bright eyes examined the surroundings carefully, and the one time they swept over the small group the guard which had first alerted them to the strangers presence gave a noticeable flinch. The boy wondered what had the man so scared; the other guards were nowhere near as affected.

The bandit suddenly began to approach them – the guards all tensed and raised their swords a little higher, refusing to back down. They shifted slowly till Roxas found himself even more boxed in, trapped in a circle of guards with barely enough room to move but no real need to if the bandit attacked – he'd have to take out a guard before he could reach the blonde.

The redhead stopped a few metres away from them, his blade relaxed by his side as if they weren't in the middle of a battle. He scanned Oren and the others in a single glance and something in his face changed, and he seemed satisfied, as if he had been wondering about an answer and the guards dishevelled appearances had somehow confirmed it.

Then he turned to Roxas and that hint of emotion was replaced by hardness.

There was nothing remotely friendly in those eyes. His interest was evident but there was no warmth. The blonde could feel him studying him intently and he bristled at the feeling – _how dare he stare like that!_

"So," The single word caused a hush to fall upon the previously muttering bandits. The redhead's face was still expressionless. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Roxas blinked. That was one thing he had not been expecting the man to say.

"You shall not address the Master in such a casual manner!" Oren barked. "And you will cease your violent actions against us!"

A few quiet snickers were heard.

The redhead's gaze flickered to Oren momentarily. "I wasn't talking to you. Shut up."

"I shall not- now take your gang and leave us be!"

"You're not in any position to be making demands of me, guard. You have noticed that you're losing this fight, or has that fancy helmet been blocking your view?" Oren made no answer and the redhead continued undeterred. "Maybe if I stick this sword through your heart you'll realise – of course, I'd kill one of your men but it's obvious that their well-being isn't worth noticing for you."

Roxas's jaw nearly dropped in disbelief – how could he even _suggest_ that?

Oren's shoulders trembled with anger and for a second the blonde half expected his head guard to lunge at the bandit, but Oren soon composed himself and returned to his previous stillness. When he spoke again the restrained fury in his voice was palpable; "I shall not answer such a slanderous statement, I only say this – take your men away from here, you have no honour in attacking us."

The bandits went quiet. Roxas felt a swell of pride for Oren.

"We've spent all this time fighting you and you expect us to leave with some sort of a reward?" The redhead shook his head as if disappointed. "Honourable indeed."

"There is no honour in an unprovoked attack."

"Surely even _you_, a mere guard to some old noble family must know that the people in control rarely agree with those words." The man's implication was clear and the bandits growled their support. Roxas glared at them all – greed may be a common trait but he had faith that it had not poisoned his father's decisions.

"There is nothing further to say." Oren was still trying to order them away. "If you must take some of the treasures then do so, just leave this convoy in peace."

"Oh don't worry, we'll be taking all your cargo as soon as you're dead." The redhead said, his voice oozing like bitter honey. "I think you'll find that I'm always _thorough._"

The guard who had been so scared before suddenly leant forwards to hiss urgently in Oren's ear- "_Sir_, it's him, it's _that _criminal-"

"For God's sake man!" Oren refused to take his eyes off the redhead for a moment. "Spit it out!"

"He's the Desert Snake!"

Everything seemed to stop.

The guards all exchanged horrified glances and their sturdy professionalism began to evaporate – in front Oren took a step back –_a step back-_ and looked as if he was seeing the redhead in a whole new and terrible light, the watching bandits grinned wickedly and chortled to one another in amusement- all the while Roxas stood bewildered in the middle of the madness.

_What on earth is going on? _The name 'Desert Snake' was not one completely unfamiliar to him –he recognised it from somewhere- but he didn't understand why this new revelation impacted so strongly on their situation. Before they were in trouble – now they were in trouble with a name to curse. If anything Roxas was _thankful_.

The redhead – or rather, the Desert Snake- sighed dramatically and ran a hand through his hair. His expression finally changed and a hint of a smirk began to play along his lips.

"Yes…" He raised both arms. Like he hadn't already gotten everybody's attention. "I am the Desert Snake, though I can't say I appreciate the name people have given me. It's not very flattering."

"You- you may take all our cargo, it is yours- just leave us be!" Oren cried.

Roxas stared at his head guard in shock. Hearing the usually unruffled and calm voice so shaky didn't help him calm down at all- if Oren was openly showing fear…

"You've never heard of me, have you?" The blonde held his blade a little tighter when he realised the Desert Snake was once again, addressing him.

Indeed, he looked up to see those green eyes inspecting him thoughtfully and the owner didn't look remotely surprised when Roxas simply glared in answer. This bandit had no right to speak to him.

The Desert Snake shrugged once more. "The reason I am known as the Desert Snake is because firstly-" He nudged the sand pointedly with one foot. "I live in the desert."

A few bandits laughed.

"And secondly any travellers which stumble across my path get swallowed up- leaving no trace that they were ever there, save for some… residue. Sort of what a snake does with a mouse." The redhead paused. "Though I suppose…" He continued slowly. "It's really the desert which does the swallowing – we just get first pick. Isn't that right boys?"

A loud cheer sounded from the crowds and many bandits raised their right arms and punched the air. In contrast Oren and the other guards curled in on themselves a little further.

The redhead grinned –Roxas saw a flash of white teeth- at his men and turned to face him once more. "Thing is boy-"

"If you're going to call me anything it will be 'my Lord'." Roxas snarled, the man's total lack of respect grating on his already frayed nerves.

"For a while there I thought you didn't have a voice." To his aggravation the redhead looked gleeful at his snappish answer. "Nice to see I was wrong- but anyway, _my lord. _Do you have any idea how much hassle you've caused me?"

Roxas stamped down on his urge to smirk. "… No." He replied after a short pause.

"Frankly neither do I but it's _a lot. _This fight would have been over long ago if you'd just stayed put like a good little noble- speaking of which, until now I never saw a noble who could fight so- well just a noble who could _fight_ at all, then I meet you-"

"Get to the point." The blonde demanded.

The Desert Snake looked slightly taken aback at Roxas's bluntness.

"…Well," The man's gaze flickered to the convoy guards before settling back onto the blonde. "I'm going to kill you. Seeing as no one else can."

Roxas stiffened. "Is that so?" He said, voice steady.

"Yes. Now come out here and fight me, one on one. My men won't interfere and neither will yours- it'll be nice and clean. Sort of."

Roxas spared one look at Oren but the man had his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. He felt a momentary sting of betrayal but quickly remembered his lessons on controlling his emotions and forced it down as he urged his feet to move. In fact the only one out of the entire group who actually showed some visible sign that they'd even heard the redheads words was a young guard with a wounded shoulder, who only gave Roxas a worried and deeply pitying stare but made no attempt to stop him - he was truly on his own in this. No one was going to help him out.

But he couldn't refuse. If what the Desert Snake said was true then accepting defeat would be to accept death, not just for him but for his mother also. Roxas had to fight to save her life.

The realisation gave him the strength to slip past his guards and move to face his opponent head on. If the redheads skills were anything like those of the other bandits then the fight wouldn't be that arduous – or at least Roxas hoped. Something in the way the redhead raised his sword to his lips (for a second the blonde thought he had kissed it but dismissed the ridiculous notion immediately) warned him not to take the man lightly.

But Roxas was far from a reckless novice – if the redhead made even the smallest mistake he would make sure it was his undoing.

Then he heard the whisper. "I'm sorry, Master." The small voice was sad but Roxas didn't know who had said it because he didn't turn round to find out.

To do so with an enemy less than three feet away would be a death wish, but also-

The redhead began to circle Roxas and the blonde instinctively mirrored his footsteps, keeping a watchful eye on the other bandits the whole time just in case one tried to attack him when his back was turned.

For a few seconds they just stared at each other. Then the Desert Snake lunged.

* * *

><p><strong>Part Two is currently being written. [Please stop hyperventilating Rocket.]<br>**

I aim to keep the chapters around this length or longer but I'm not too sure about how long certain parts in the plot will go on, but I've divided it so there's at least something of interest in each chapter and it's suitably even.

**Review please! **I've been working on this for ages so any comments, thoughts or criticisms would really be appreciated. :) Flamers can expect to be ridiculed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Story: **Only Whispers Remember (Me.)** Author: **bbb136.** Beta: **Rocket-ship-Romance. (Who is ill so look sad for second.)

**A/N: **I AM SO SORRY! This is so delayed and it sucks because I intended on posting this a week after the first chapter. D: Nobody likes hearing authors make bad excuses but mine are for once legitimate and I feel the need to state them briefly; surprise trips and 'social gatherings' which took me away from my work then this was finished but computer broke so I thought I'd lost it and went and sulked then I realised I hadn't so I danced about happily and sent it off to my beta who unfortunately turned out to be rather ill so I waited to till she was better and I just got this about twenty minutes ago AND I'M POSTING. And I bet you FF will decide to act up right before I click the 'update story' button.

**[**It did as well.**]**

**Disclaimer: **Kingdom Hearts is not mine. Neither is my life- that now belongs to my education apparently.

* * *

><p><em>When people warn you to tread with caution in your life you never quite understand the pain behind their words. I did not heed them – and now I understand.<em>

* * *

><p>Axel felt so <em>alive.<em>

It had been so long since he'd faced such a skilled opponent, one who feinted and dodged and was so light on his feet that even _he_ had trouble landing a strike.

His bandits were no fun to spar with and the people he attacked in the desert who could be entertaining were often too overwhelmed by his slightly maniacal style to put up even a decent fight, until now.

The noble had met him with equal fire – something that surprised him a little actually. When he'd proposed the fight the boy had looked so afraid that despite his obvious talent Axel was confident he'd be able to strike a lethal blow within the first few minutes.

_Well. _Axel grinned as he side-stepped a dangerous swipe of the blonde's sword. _How wrong was he._

Their fight had been going on for so long that Axel had lost all track of time – all he knew was that liquid fire was rushing through his veins and god how it _burned_. The blonde had impressively managed to hold his own with only his dagger for a weapon, until a swing of Axel's sword grazed his side and the boy wisely darted back to snatch up an abandoned blade, only being able to do so because the redhead was distracted by his usually placid horse braying loudly. (He still had no clue what had managed to spook her.)

Their swords met with a harsh clang, disengaging quickly only to meet again at a different angle. Axel blocked a kick meant for his chest and attempted to knock the blonde off of his feet when he ducked a particularly wide swing, cursing inwardly when the boy saw what he was doing and leapt out of reach.

Clang hit hit dodge swipe dodge block hit hit curse dodge.

Again and again their weapons met and Axel realised that if he did not end the fight soon they would most likely keep attacking each other until one finally succumbed to fatigue.

Swipe dodge hiss.

While he couldn't deny that the idea held some appeal for him –exciting opponents like this one were harder to come by than you would assume - he also recognised that the Noble's ability to dance out of harms way would probably drive him to lose his temper before that happened.

Axel took a step back and swung his sword with more force than any of his previous attacks had held –he started to grin when he saw the blonde's grip on his own weapon loosen and watched it fly out of his hand, until he realised he too was grasping thin air because the blonde had simultaneously sent an equally powerfully strike to Axel's weapon with his nimble foot.

For a split second Axel could only stare as he realised he'd just been disarmed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been disarmed.

The blonde looked equally startled, his face a mixture of disbelief, hesitant triumph and horror. Then his expression hardened and he advanced on Axel once again – only this time with his fists.

The style of the battle suddenly changed.

Instead of trying to kill each other with weapons they were now fighting with pure kung fu. Cold metal transformed into living flesh in an instant. They danced around the make shift arena like lethal acrobats and Axel was once again reluctantly impressed at the show of skill; the blonde looked only a few years younger than him but he was still highly capable.

Axel hadn't practised kung fu in a long time and he felt like his rustiness showed- though he knew that to any of his men (and most likely the remaining convoy guards as well) this fight must look incredible and he suspected they would talk about it long after it had ended and they had left. He just hoped that somewhere in this large convoy there was some strong alcohol.

Hit dodge swipe dance dodge dodge hit miss swipe block glare.

It amused him that the blonde clearly hadn't thought that Axel had any skill when it came to kung fu as none of his men did, he fought desperately because he knew as well as Axel did that here in this hot desert it wasn't him who had the advantage. One slip up would mean his death.

Hit dodge hit dodge hit hit hit swipe dodge dodge grin jump hit swipe hit hit hit dodge.

Slowly but surely Axel could feel himself falling back into the rhythm and soon the blonde was forced to be on the defensive, clearly not having enough stamina to keep up his aggressive pace. The bandits saw this and their rowdy calls to 'slam the brat' grew louder and more animated. The convoy guards remained silent.

Swipe swipe hit dodge dodge hit laugh.

The blonde stumbled once but recovered quickly. Axel misjudged a dodge and the blonde got a successful hit in, nearly causing him to double over while he fended the other blows off in a somewhat sloppy manner- the bandit's yells reached their peak.

Then suddenly, as the blonde pulled back his arm for another strike and Axel prepared to block it a woman's terrified shriek split the air.

Almost immediately the Noble's head whipped round and he froze with eyes full of fear and mouth open in a gasp - Axel seized his chance and lunged forward.

If the boy hadn't been so fixated on what ever was happening somewhere behind the other bandits he would have seen what was coming and moved out of the way- _his loss_, Axel thought as his foot connected with the boy's chest and he was knocked to the ground.

The blonde met the sand with an agonised groan and Axel quickly pulled his own dagger from belt –why it hadn't occurred to him to use it before he wasn't sure- and placed his boot on the blonde's chest to keep him down, holding the dagger at the boy's neck as he leant forwards.

"Well," He started breathlessly as his bandits cheered and slapped one another on the back. "Wasn't that fun?"

The blonde didn't reply. He looked up at Axel and Axel looked down at him, studying the stubborn fury and despair painted boldly on his face. Really, people were so expressive when they were about to die.

After a minute it became obvious that the noble either couldn't or wouldn't say anything but Axel didn't push for an answer or make him to beg for his life like he had done with others who had fallen to him. The blonde had fought well and bravely and Axel couldn't help but hold some odd feeling akin to respect for him, so he decided to humour the whim and let him die with a little dignity.

He turned his wrist and was about to slit the boy's trembling throat before the boy flinched and Axel froze. The unsuppressed movement had caused the blonde's hard collar to finally give way and a bright, green amulet to slide into view.

It was circular, roughly about the size of Axel's fist and hung on a gold chain. The biggest emerald that he had ever seen was melded into a gold backing and cut so it curved outwards and caught the light, gleaming and glittering like an envious star. But it wasn't the rare stone which made the redhead stop. It was the symbol etched into it.

Or rather, the crest.

Axel stared at the Tàiyáng crest and all his plans and judgments crumbled around him. His eyes quickly found the blonde's and he searched them for some sign that he was wrong but couldn't see anything which could even suggest deceit. Those blue eyes were open and confused, the blonde having realized the redhead had failed to kill him and no doubt wondering why.

_But this doesn't make any sense! _Axel continued to stare at the boy who was now desperately trying to look around without getting his throat cut. _The crest isn't on any of the wagons or the guards armour!_

A hesitant cough sounded from behind him and Axel slowly turned, making sure the metal of his dagger cut into the blonde's skin to deter any attempts to escape.

Kinterl stood fingering his blade beside the other bandits who had taken the weapons of the convoy guards and surrounded them. There were only ten; most of his men had left to eagerly strip the wagons of their worth as soon as Axel had defeated the noble. The only ones who had stayed were the few who ranked killing above personal gain- needless to say some of them were people Axel could tolerate when he was still sober.

Kinterl stepped forward and nodded towards his prisoners and Axel knew immediately what the man was silently asking for- permission. _Damn._

A few seconds ago he would have said _yes, kill them_ without a second thought but _now_…

Axel glanced at the pendant, the blonde, Kinterl and the convoy guards and thought about what would happen if a Tàiyáng prince never made it out of the desert.

He made a decision.

"No."

The man looked slightly aghast. "What do you want us to do with them then, boss?" He asked tentatively.

Axel frowned and removed his foot from the blonde's chest. "Take them to the carriage." He grasped the back of the boy's neck and yanked him up so he was standing, being careful to keep the dagger at his throat at all times. The boy may have been defeated but he was still dangerous. "Don't touch them or anybody else."

Kinterl blinked as Axel and his captive passed him, mouth agape. "Boss?"

"Did I stutter?" Axel questioned harshly.

The bandit hastily shook his head. "No boss."

"Then why are you still here?" Kinterl wisely did not stay to answer that question.

Axel watched him and the other bandits go with an annoyed expression. He could still feel another pair of eyes boring into his head so he turned and glared irritably at the guilty party. "What?"

The blonde looked at him. "You didn't kill me."

"Oh, you noticed."

The boy narrowed his eyes at him hatefully- though the redhead noted with interest that his gaze kept flickering to where the carriage was, and every time he did his troubled frown would deepen a little further. "Why?"

"Because." The blonde appeared incredulous at not getting a straight answer –_spoilt noble- _and opened his mouth to presumably demand one. It was satisfying to watch him snap it shut when Axel pressed his dagger further into his neck.

The redhead eyed him in warning then refocused his attention on his men and whistled loudly, gritting his teeth impatiently when it took longer than usual for all the bandits to face him.

Axel scanned them. They all looked very pleased with themselves. Most were burdened down with rich clothes and valuable items, various objects clearly dismissed as junk lying discarded at their feet. Next to them lay the dead of the convoy, faces forever twisted in pain and the sand around them stained red with their cooling blood. The bandits acted as if they weren't there- which as far he was concerned, they weren't.

"Move all but two of the wagons to the other side of the road, leave the ones with food and water. And don't touch the carriage."

They looked slightly confused but moved to do as he said almost at once- Axel suspected that his fight with the boy had served as a good reminder of how dangerous he actually was.

After ten long minutes where many curses were aimed at various horses (which Axel and the noble spent standing in uneasy silence) on the right side of the road sat the carriage, two wagons and the convoy guards still held at sword point, and on the left were the nine supply wagons with disgruntled bandits sitting at the reins.

Axel nodded his approval and then switched his gaze to- "Kinterl."

The man in question straightened up. "Yes boss?"

"Give the guards back their weapons."

A low murmur passed through the bandits which Axel silenced with a single sharp look. Kinterl looked as if he desperately wanted to ask _why_ but luckily for him had the good sense not to. Even so the bandit's feelings on the matter were painfully obvious as he bit his lip and walked over to where the swords lay, picked them up and (with minor difficulty) brought them back to the guards, throwing them to the suspicious men who only just managed to catch them before they hit the sand. Kinterl glared at them unhappily and turned to face Axel again.

Axel inclined his head to him and then in a much louder voice said, "You are free to go."

There was an outcry.

"What?"

"Why?"

"Boss?"

"Why!"

"Why are we letting them go?"

"We've won!"

"What's wrong?"

"Don't question me just get the hell out of the way!" Axel seethed as his men continued to bicker noisily. He sure as hell couldn't blame them- they were probably wondering whether the heat had finally affected his mind, to even _think_ of letting travellers live- but that didn't mean he was above slitting someone's throat if they didn't get the message soon.

"But boss…" One of the less irritating and coincidentally one of the less scarred bandits spoke up. "We can't just let them go… they- they could tell people what we look like."

Axel shot the man an exasperated glare. As if that hadn't already occurred to him. "How will it help them? It's not like we parade into town once every month, or that guards patrol our desert looking for us. Just get out the road before I drag your corpses off it!"

None of his bandits looked at all comfortable but slowly began to do as he said, wary of the threat- obviously the fact that Axel had his hands full with a bloodthirsty blonde had escaped them. Soon the road was clear and the blonde's struggles began to increase in urgency as they were both graced with a good view of the still silent carriage.

_Has to be a sister or something, _Axel thought as he pulled the boy over towards the convoy guards who now had their eyes fixed on them both, the leader of the sorry troupe looking particularly stony. _Maybe his mother._

_Who knows. _The leader didn't meet his gaze head on. _Could even be a sweetheart._

* * *

><p><em>What the hell was going on?<em>

Roxas shifted under the redheads knife in attempt to gain some new angle at which to peer at the carriage, the coldness biting into his boiling skin feeling as painful as an actual wound.

He'd lost the fight but he wasn't dead- the Desert Snake hadn't killed him- his mother screamed- because – why would – one look at the crest and he had frozen- the worry was unbearable- why did it make him stop- everything else was a blur- it made no sense he had lost- what in god's name had happened to his mother- and now- and now-

The Desert Snake had told them they could go.

For the second time that day Roxas had found himself caught off guard by the redhead's mouth.

Roxas had prepared himself for the unspeakable- kill them one by one so his Lordshipcan watch, gather round and see me gouge out his Lordship'seyes- but _this_? He didn't buy any of it, it made no sense at all, it was bordering on being _noble _for heaven's sake!

The blonde had a hunch that this was just some game to satisfy the Desert Snake's sadistic desire to rise up their hopes only to dash them down again (maybe he did this with all the people he attacked). But the cruel part was that for a second Roxas had actually believed him too.

And Oren wasn't meeting his eyes, though that was hardly a nasty shock. _You coward, _Roxas would have screamed at him if it weren't for the blade at his throat and his refusal to make such a spectacle of himself. _Did your oaths mean so little in the face of this man?_

Speaking of which- Roxas watched the redhead scrutinise his convoy guards out of the corner of his eye, the bandit's eyes still dark despite their bright shade. Where on earth did a bandit learn kung fu?

"Alright _men_," Without warning the Desert Snake began to speak, apparently only talking to the convoy guards and himself as the other bandits had gone back to their thieving. "You've all fought bravely and you have my _utmost_ respect for it." Everyone bristled when his tone clearly said otherwise. "And out of the goodness of my heart I've decided to let you and your little charge go as a little reward for being so _strong._ And if you can't get home now… well, that'll be on your head, not mine."

Roxas thought he saw a flash of the redhead's teeth. The dagger at his throat moved slightly.

"You, the Desert Snake, would just let us leave?" Oren sounded highly sceptical and Roxas shared his feelings – his head guard may not have any honour left but that didn't make him a fool.

"Yes." The Desert Snake answered. "Now get out of my desert."

Oren persisted to ask questions. "You will not pursue us in any way? Not change your mind and chase us when night falls or when ever takes your fancy?"

"You have my word."

Roxas made an angry, ugly noise at the promise. The bandit had some nerve to think that they would trust him after he had ambushed them and murdered so many people – most of which were only there to attend to the needs of him and his mother, most likely never having even held a weapon in their entire lives. Never more had he wanted to hurt the redhead than at that moment – to even try and act like he had any honour!

Oren adopted a calculating expression and for a small while didn't say anything at all. Behind him the other guards watched him earnestly, one of who kept switching to scan Roxas and his captor with a worried yet determined expression which clearly read 'hold on'. Roxas didn't know who the young guard was but made a mental note to remember his face.

"Why would you do such a thing? How does it benefit you?" Oren finally said, face resigned.

Roxas felt the Desert Snake shrug. "It just does." The man replied.

It was obvious to anybody that Oren had no belief in the Desert Snake's sincerity but what was even more obvious was that Oren had no other option left. Roxas was torn between glaring at him and reluctantly accepting the logic of the situation when his head guard gave the redhead a hesitant nod.

There was a strong note of satisfaction in the redhead's voice when he next spoke. "Wonderful. Well I suppose you'd better get up on those wagons and ride off then, don't want to be wasting daylight after all."

Oren raised his sword up threateningly. "Return the Master to us first."

The hand holding the dagger to the blonde's throat did not waver.

"Don't worry, you'll get him back." The Desert Snake drawled. "As soon as you're ready to go."

For some reason Oren wasn't surprised by his answer, instead the head guard regarded them both steadily while muttering orders to the other three men at his back who all split up.

Roxas watched as two of the guards took the reins of the two wagons while the young one pulled himself up onto the seat on the front of the carriage, all three of them nervously eyeing the other bandits the whole time. The blonde silently begged for him to check on his mother but it was in vain, the guard didn't even spare the occupants (assuming they were still inside) a second glance.

Oren gave the Desert Snake one last, long look before backing away too. To Roxas's delight Oren did check on his mother, opening the door a crack and peering inside, his mouth forming words which Roxas could not hear.

Then his heart lurched when Oren closed the door and went to sit next to the young guard at the reins- _was that it? Was his mother fine? Had she been hurt?_ Fear flooded his veins and ignoring the voice in his head shouting at him to stay still Roxas yelled, "Oren!"

The blade at his throat dug deeper into his skin –something warm began to roll down his neck- and his head guard jumped as if he'd been stung. Blue eyes clashed with brown and for a second Oren looked absolutely terrified until Roxas gestured with his head the best he could towards the carriage, and the man relaxed slightly. Oren's face was still grim but he formed a stiff smile which told Roxas everything he needed to know- his mother wasn't in any danger.

His head swam with relief and it was only the need to maintain his dignity that stopped him from sagging in the redheads grip like a stuffed doll.

Well, that and the man's noise of amusement.

Roxas could feel those eyes on him again and he very pointedly turned away, instead focusing on the carriage; fancying that in some way he could sense his mothers presence although he knew the belief was childish.

"Looks like somebody has a soft side after all."

"Be silent!" Roxas spat back at him defensively, blood rushing to his cheeks.

The redhead smirked. "Who said I was talking about you, _your Lordship_?"

The blonde stared at him for a second before huffing and averting his gaze. "Imbecile." He muttered under his breath.

There was no way that the Desert Snake could have missed the insult but surprisingly the bandit didn't react to it at all. Roxas guessed he'd been called that enough times that he'd gradually become immune to it.

Suddenly the hand at the back of his neck pushed him forward and Roxas found himself being walked –_finally_- over to the carriage. His hands itched to tear the blade away from his throat so he could run over but he didn't dare struggle.

Oren's face grew visibly strained as they approached and his hand remained clamped tightly around his sword. When the carriage door was within arms reach Roxas abandoned trying to reign in his need and inched desperately forward, even though the redhead had already come to a halt and most of his movements were rather pointless.

"I'd just like to take a moment to remind you _Oren _– that is what his Lordship called you I think- that it would be better for everyone if you stayed _out_ of my desert. If you're ever lucky enough to meet me a second time I can't promise the same, kind treatment."

Roxas was sure that Oren's face now resembled an angry tomato after the Desert Snake's speech but he never turned to check. Their exchanges–Oren, angry and tired, the Desert Snake, mocking and cruel – could not seem farther from his ears.

_Mother. _If he could only lean forwards he could press his head against the smooth wood and listen for noises – the door was only inches from his face and yet _he couldn't reach it. _His eyes were already strained from trying to peer through the tiny holes in the veils, unsuccessfully too; the veils served their purpose well.

Oren didn't say anything back to the redhead's taunts but neither did the redhead try to provoke him further. Instead the hand holding the dagger moved and Roxas was forced to look at the man face to face.

The Desert Snake stared at him with an expression some way between amused and thoughtful. The hand at the back of the blonde's neck shifted round to rest right below his throat and Roxas's skin quivered at the touch – was he about to kill him? Was this it?

And his life flashed before his eyes.

His trainer had once told him that when you were near death everything suddenly became clear; problems solved themselves, questions were answered and all that was painful turned numb. But Roxas didn't have that- he didn't have it before when he'd been lying on the sand with the very same blade at his throat and he sure as hell didn't have it now.

His focused mind was alive and buzzing with everything in his life that was –or had been left- unresolved. There was no peace, or understanding. All Roxas could cling onto was the familiar knowledge that his life was a _mess. _

_And it's about to be cut short. _Roxas bit his lip. He didn't want to die, but no eye-catching amulet could save him now.

But as if fate wanted to mock his words the Desert's Snake's eyes drifted downwards to eye his crest for a few seconds before flickering back up to him, green eyes alight.

There was something in those eyes which made Roxas want to yell at him, though he couldn't say what-

_Oh._

The Desert Snake may have decided to let them go, may have decided not to leave them to die of hunger or thirst but he was also, first and foremost- a bandit. Someone who liked to steal things of great value, pretty things, priceless things- for example, the emerald amulet hanging round his neck-

"Don't you dare!" Roxas hissed at him.

The redhead's eyes glittered. "Don't I dare what?"

"Don't you dare _do_, what you're thinking of doing."

"And how would you know what I'm thinking?"

"It's written all over your face!"

Behind the redhead Roxas could see Oren looking horrified, half out of his seat and mouth set in a hard line. _What? _ The redhead followed his gaze and shook his head. "Such a dark trail of thought Oren, it speaks volumes about your life."

Roxas's brows furrowed at his words, the redhead noticed and smirked. "For someone so lethal you're awfully innocent when it comes to the big, bad world."

The blonde's eyes narrowed but before he could spit something which would most likely turn out to be foul back in the redhead's face the man made him forget that he ever said anything at all.

With one firm yank the Desert Snake pulled the amulet from his neck and grasped it in one hand.

"Give that back!" Roxas ordered furiously. "Give that back at once!"

"No. You've caused a lot of trouble, I deserve some compensation." The redhead cocked his head, clearly enjoying watching the blonde lose all his composure. "Why are you so upset? I'm sure you can get this old thing replaced within minutes of you getting home."

"Are you crazy? I can't replace that!"

"Which means it must be worth quite a bit…" The Desert Snake murmured, bringing the stone up to his eyes for closer examination. Roxas tried to squirm out of his grasp so he could snatch his pendant back but the bandit anticipated his move, pushing the blade further into his throat without sparing him a second glance.

"Will you just return it already! There is no way I can let you have that!" Roxas cried.

Immediately the redhead's gaze shot back to him – Roxas realised too late that he'd sounded far too desperate. Far too easy to take advantage of.

"You really care about this pendant, don't you?" The redhead whispered.

Roxas's thoughts whirled around his head in hysterics and he blurted out, "Yes."

"Well then." But instead of returning the crest like the boy hoped a cruel smirk formed on the redheads lips. "I guess you'll be down for a few extra days now."

His words held the same finality of a death sentence and they choked the blonde like a cord around the neck. Roxas opened his mouth to demand the crest back but before he could the Desert Snake removed the blade and promptly delivered a strong blow to his head, and everything went black.

One time when he had been little, not even five years of age, he'd escaped his nursemaids one night to explore the garden and he'd found the lake where he later learned his older brother spent most of his time sitting by. He had gone up to look into the dark water only to lose his footing and fall in. Only a few days before that his mother had enchanted all three of her sons with stories about her home country, where in the winter white things called 'snowflakes' fell from the sky and water turned as hard as rock.

Roxas had been in awe and desperately wanted to see these amazing things for himself so the next chance he got he ran to find them. But the snow never fell when he wished for it and as he painfully discovered the lake wasn't made of rock.

Even though he had been so young he could still clearly remember the coldness, the darkness and the quietness which surrounded him as he struggled in the water, helpless to do anything but dead certain that he had to get out _now. _

This, this strange moment of blackness felt exactly like falling into that cold lake. Roxas was cut off from the world but when he fought he found himself surging to the surface with great speed.

"-as? Roxas? Roxas!"

Everything was a blur. A bright, confusing blur. Roxas groaned. "Roxas, can you hear me?"

There were two figures - or two different coloured blurs. He wasn't sure. One of them, the pink and yellow one, was right in front of his face and cool fingers were stroking his temple. It felt nice, but when he thought about it he could also feel an ache in his head. Roxas's mouth opened in puzzlement. Where had the ache come from? Oh wait, he'd been hit, hadn't he? Hit by…

His memories suddenly came rushing back and Roxas sat up without thinking, wincing at the dizziness his actions brought- he should have stayed lying down. But the suddenness had also managed to right the world and he could see normally again.

The pink blur transformed into his relieved mother and the other blur into her stone faced attendant leaning over him, both women with tear tracks down their faces and a flush of colour in their cheeks which had nothing to do with the heat. "Roxas darling? Are you alright?" His mother asked urgently. "You were so still- maybe you should lie back down…" She began to press lightly at his shoulders but Roxas refused to move.

"Where is the Desert Snake?" He gripped both her arms frantically. "Where did he go- wait, are we moving?"

His mother looked startled at the onslaught of questions and was unable to form words, but Roxas knew the answer. They were in the carriage and it was rocking from side to side- they'd left. They'd left without getting back his pendant and _how long_-

"How long since we've left, mother?" Roxas demanded.

"I don't understand-" The woman began.

"Tell me!"

She gaped at him, watery blue eyes blinking furiously. "Well I wasn't keeping track…" Roxas frowned at her and she hurriedly continued. "But I'd say a little under half an hour."

_How far could you travel in half an hour?_ Roxas made a few quick calculations in his head and nodded. There was still time.

"Mother, I'll be right back."

"What? Where on earth are you going?"

Roxas got to his feet –he swayed a little but shook it off- and for the second time that day, ignored his mother's protests and leapt out of the carriage. He hit the ground running.

* * *

><p>They had a very good haul.<p>

Every man had his own share of treasures to sell, trade or maybe just hoard, ranging from fine silks to decorative cups with shiny gems embedded around the handle. Little had been taken from the bodies although Axel and a few others had seized various pieces of armour.

Three men, one of them Kinterl now owned a helmet that they all wore like a trophy, where as Axel had taken the arm guards he'd had his eyes on from the start and also the saddle from the head guard's horse. It was of much better quality than his own and would be more comfortable for both mount and rider.

All the men were happy, their annoyance forgotten in favour of admiring their gains. Most things had been snatched within the first minute. But apart from the armour and saddle Axel had taken very little from the convoy as very little was interesting enough for him to bother to take away.

Aside from the pendant though.

Axel pulled it out and dangled it in front of his face.

In this land emeralds were incredibly rare and one the size of a pebble could make a bandit rich for a long time. An emerald the size of a man's fist, already cut and polished into a fine necklace would reach a price so large the redhead could probably buy himself a mansion and still have a little left over.

Other bandits who had caught sight of the stone kept their greedy eyes trained on it. None were stupid to try and take it from Axel, but that didn't stop them from eyeing it longingly, and at that point Axel decided he wouldn't stay with the gang this time. He would prefer it if he did not have to sleep with one hand on his dagger in case one of his more reckless and dangerous men got a crazy idea into their heads that they could just steal the pendant when he was asleep and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

_Still_. Axel ran a finger along the edges of the Tàiyáng crest and twirled it around.

He didn't think he would sell or trade this prize, at least not for a while. It was a good trophy, a reminder of how he'd fought the golden haired noble and won. Apart from his horse Sauveter he had nothing he held on to for the sake of being sentimental and nostalgic. He doubted that would change, eventually he would get bored and sell the emerald.

It caught the sun and many a bandits eye while he held it there. It was beautiful but for some reason Axel didn't like it. After a moments thinking he understood why.

The crest had been carefully carved in but it still spoiled the stone, ruined the smoothness and the vibrant colour with its dark edges and was an ugly reminder of the Tàiyáng family. If it had just been an emerald on a chain the redhead would probably have liked it better.

But he wondered why the blonde had been so angry when he'd taken it. People like him _could_ get it replaced with a snap of their fingers- even if they said they couldn't.

Sauveter suddenly knocked her head into her master's arm and he absent-mindedly patted her on the nose. "What is it?" He asked softly.

She neighed and Axel frowned. He put the pendant back into his pocket and looked up, eyes narrowing at the sight of an approaching figure. "You have got to be kidding me…"

The noble staggered into what remained of the convoy breathing heavily, one hand clutched around a dagger –_Axel's_ dagger? Oh wait- he had chucked it in after the blonde as a little something to remember himself by. Maybe not the wisest of decisions…

"You just can't get enough of me can you?" Axel called out to the tired boy, the other bandits looking too shocked to do anything except stare. "Did you run all the way here?"

The noble ignored his questions and pointed the dagger Axel's way threateningly. "Give me back what you stole."

Axel grinned. "Well…" In one quick movement he jumped onto Sauveter and shot the startled noble a cocky wink. "Come and get it then."

The redhead dug his heels in and Sauveter set off in a gallop, the noble's yell to _stop _fading away into the background. Axel glanced back after a few minutes and to his delight saw the blonde on his own horse steadily gaining on him.

_This was going to be fun._

* * *

><p><strong>Seeing as this was so delayed I made it quite long for you, I hope you thought it was decent at least.<strong>

Man that delay was so embarrassing. :S I feel very sheepish (love that word.) To quote _The History Boys_ –which I also do not own- it was "just one fuc(bleep)ing thing after another!"

But anyway it's officially Autumn, so start wrapping up warm and drinking hot chocolate. :] Have a good week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author: **bbb136. **Currently unbeta'd: **because I am impatient and guilty which does not make for a good mix. Edited version to be posted shortly.

I'm in that mood where I decide I'm going to do nothing but paint my nails crazy colours, eat chocolate biscuits, drink tea (I don't even like it but I'm British which means I have to drink it every day or I'll die) and watch films I never had a chance to see in the cinema but don't have on DVD. Keanu Reeves = gorgeous, by the way.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kingdom Hearts, but if somebody can name the film Keanu Reeves 'recently' appeared in they're getting my eternal devotion.

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><p><em>Life, no matter what any fool dressed in gold may tell you, is short, and easily ended. I learnt that the hard way. As did he.<em>

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><p>Roxas groaned as he suddenly became aware of the multiple aches and pains screaming abuse from several parts of his body, the most noticeable coming from his head. It felt like his skull was made of soft paper and his brain had been replaced with a thundering storm. The blonde groaned again at the sheer agony of it; he'd never been subjected to a headache anywhere near as severe as the one he had now.<p>

He didn't dare open his eyes as where ever he was; his bedroom, the private training rooms (maybe he was lying in the Tàiyáng doctors rooms- he did feel like hell) there was a strong chance that it was well lit. And with a headache like his light, no matter how dim, would do little but make it a lot worse.

And god, his _throat_-

Tears pricked at his eyes and the blonde was torn between falling back into the soothing blackness or figuring out what exactly was going on. In the end he picked the last option because there was a strange, nagging sense of urgency whispering things at the back of his mind which wouldn't let him go back to sleep- Roxas wished it would die.

Roxas tried to flex his limbs a little and winced at the expected pain the action brought, but felt slightly calmed when it was more of an ache that came from bruising and over exertion rather than the stabbing jolt of a wound that had broken the skin. He shifted and spent a moment deliberating whether trying to sit up was a good idea.

Now that he was slightly used to the pain his body (with the exception of his head) didn't feel quite as breakable and he was confident (sort of) that he wouldn't collapse if he did try anything strenuous – even so, he didn't exactly _want_to get up, as that meant moving and moving now meant more pain. Roxas wasn't weak but he wasn't so foolish as to try and injure himself further for no real reason.

Instead the blonde did his best to find out where he was with touch alone.

He grasped the surface he was lying on with his fingers and furrowed his brow. It was comfortable, Roxas guessed he was lying on a bed –yes, he could feel a pillow of some kind and there was the weak pressure of a blanket across his chest- but his fingers didn't meet the familiar silk which draped his own bed. While the material was not itchy it was coarser than silk, but not of poor quality. He found that he didn't particularly appreciate the change – and maybe he was in the Doctors rooms after all; that man's tastes changed almost as frequently as his mother's did. He'd probably decided to forgo the silk in favour of some new, foreign material.

Roxas turned his head and burrowed it further into the pillow -which _was_ silk- and frowned, but not because of the unfamiliar scent but instead because even when he went off on an internal tangent the nagging urgency in his head didn't go away or quieten down, if anything it got _louder_.

His thoughts were in a sloppy mess but he knew he was missing something important, something big – but what?

Then came the sound of footsteps and Roxas instinctively sat up.

Instantly he was hit with a wave of dizziness and the boy quickly collapsed back onto the bed with an agonised hiss. _'__Bad __idea, __bad __idea__…' _

There was a chuckle and Roxas felt his head been propped up and a cup being placed at his dry lips. The realisation that he was actually _desperately_ _thirsty_ hit him with similar force as the dizziness and he greedily gulped the drink down –he would say it was water but there was a weird taste to it which reminded him a little of mint herbs.

He drank so much so fast that a few drops escaped and rolled down his face, but he hadn't the energy to wipe them away and the one supporting him while he tried to replenish the lack of fluids in his system either didn't notice, or didn't care.

Roxas finished the cup and gave a pleased sigh, his headache and throat already feeling considerably better. The other person dropped him back onto the bed and the blonde grimaced at the rough treatment of the usually over-attentive Doctor and his helpers, making a mental note to bring this up when he felt more recovered.

"Don't complain," Somebody said. "You're lucky to be alive, after what you did…"

_After I did what?_

Roxas knew the voice, the richness and mild amusement was so very familiar to him but he couldn't for the life of him remember who it belonged to. The nagging voice at the back of his head began screaming.

The blonde tried to peer at the place where he thought the speakers face was but as he had suspected earlier the light was too bright, and he shut his eyes as quickly as he had opened them. He winced as his headache got some of its strength back and promptly decided not to bother with his curiosity for the time being.

But what to do now?

"Go back to sleep." The Somebody murmured.

'_Okay.__' _Roxas obeyed, slipping into the darkness once more as his exhaustion finally conquered his feelings of unease.

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><p><em>Five hours earlier.<em>

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><p>"I swear I'll kill you if you don't return my pendant immediately!"<p>

"You're very good, one of the best I've seen but lets not get too cocky. I had you at my mercy _twice_ if you recall!"

"It won't happen a third time I can promise you that! Now return to me my pendant!"

"Make me!"

"… As you wish!"

They'd ditched the horses and the game of 'chase' an hour previous, when the bandit had lead them both to a dry river bed and then leapt down, beckoning to the noble with one hand and a tired smirk. For a few minutes they'd exchanged demands (Roxas) and rebukes (the Desert Snake) before they'd begun fighting.

Neither of them had any weapons, Roxas having accidentally dropped the dagger during his pursuit and the bandit never having had one in the first place. The bandit's sword was still strapped to his horse's saddle in plain view but he'd appeared to have forgotten that the blade even existed.

Instead they used the strength in their limbs and the speed and agility of their movements to beat one another into submission.

So far little headway had been made for either fighter.

Roxas breathed heavily, shifting his stance while continued to fix his opponent with a weary yet heated glare.

His opponent, who was in a similar state of fatigue, returned it with a stare which practically oozed with glee. "Give up yet?" The redhead asked.

Roxas seethed. "Never!" He cried as he leapt forwards with deadly intent.

The Desert Snake quickly dodged his attack –although with a lot less grace than he would have done earlier- and followed up with one of his own. Roxas sidestepped that and their dance continued. For much longer than either of their bodies could stand.

At noon Roxas threw the first strike. One hour later he threw the last.

The Desert Snake dropped to his knees, winded and bent over as he clutched the side of his chest to which Roxas had delivered a powerful kick, his face hidden.

"…You… you see?" The blonde gasped out, pointing a shaking finger at the fallen redhead. "Told… you… that… that I'd win…"

The Desert Snake let go a pained noise and looked up at Roxas with an unreadable expression. If it weren't for the defeated position and the sharp gasps for breath the boy wouldn't be certain that the man had even been beaten. But he had, and they both knew it.

"Now…" Roxas swayed on his feet. "…Give… give me…" He never got to finish his sentence.

His body finally gave out and the blonde keeled over onto the hard rock of the dry riverbed, murmuring mismatched words even after the dust had settled onto his unmoving body. Eventually Roxas went silent, and Axel got his breath back.

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><p><em>What?<em>

Roxas's eyes snapped open and immediately he tried to jump to his feet but ended up falling on his side instead; his legs were too slow with sleep and had consequently gotten twisted in the blanket wrapped around his lower body. He quickly kicked the offending article off and scrambled into a standing position, hissing when he pulled some rather sore muscles in doing so. But now was not the time to dwell on something as insignificant as a few cuts and bruises.

There was little light and so it took a minute for his eyes to adjust, but once they had Roxas took in his surroundings with one wide-eyed look and felt the very strong urge to panic.

He was in what appeared to be a …cave? Never having seen one for himself Roxas couldn't say for sure, but it was either that or he was in a house crudely crafted out of rock – which he supposed was just another definition of a cave so he decided to forget about it and just go along with his original idea.

The faded brown fabric of the discarded blanket felt strange underneath his bare feet (where were his shoes?) but the actual bed was of similar design to the ones back home; a bed roll which put the sleeper only a few inches above the floor (although this one was far less comfortable). The bedroll was located in the centre of the cave and piled around it in a shaky ring was mounds of treasure.

A lot of it was merely gold in various forms, goblets, plates, jewellery and other things of a similar nature. There were also a few boxes and crates hidden underneath all the gold, their cargo presumably more valuable than anything else in the room or at least too small to leave lying about. Roxas could see a few strange things peeking out from various places – the most obvious being a beautifully made bow – and he wondered what their place was in this treasure trove.

Then around the treasure placed in little glass jars were candles, which caused shadows to dance across the walls every time the tiny flames flickered. Aside from that and a few other bundles and boxes in the far corner the cave held little else. The next thing to catch the blonde's attention was the tunnel set into the wall on his right side which he couldn't see down, as it didn't even extend three yards before it curved sharply. But the fact that it was from there that a large amount of light originated from meant that it was the way out and Roxas very nearly started down it, but froze before he'd even taken a step.

_Is __walking __down __that __tunnel __the __best __thing __to __do?_ _What __or __who __could __meet __me __at __the __other __end?_

He didn't have the slightest clue where he was- or what had happened after he had passed out, surely that bloodthirsty bandit would have leapt at the chance to finally slit his throat- but then again the man had not taken advantage of the two opportunities before, so maybe he'd simply gotten bored and left…? No. Roxas had only known the Desert Snake for less than a day but he could tell that the redhead was not the sort of man to be merciful to somebody who had hurt him – no bandits ever were. So did that mean that someone else had found him?

Roxas pressed one hand to his temple as if to touch the dull ache which flared out beneath his fingers. Everything was a little foggy but he thought he could remember somebody giving him water, and supporting him while he drank. Or maybe that was just a remnant of a dream- though his instincts said otherwise, it had felt real enough.

His memories of everything before that, on the other hand, were not so confusing (they had forced him awake after all) and the boy took a moment to mull over them, unable to suppress a smirk when he recalled his defeat of the redhead. But wait-

The blonde desperately felt for his crest but came up empty handed – _oh__no_. He bit his lip. Suddenly he wished he was with the redhead because if he wasn't it meant that his crest was still somewhere in the Great Western Desert, probably lost forever by now.

_Most likely in the hands of that bandit._

His hand clenched around the fabric. "No… I refuse to allow this to happen!" He muttered to himself. "I'll get it back. I swear I will." Sparing one last look at the cave, Roxas brushed away the sand that had collected on his shirt and crept down the passage.

He hadn't even made it two steps round the corner before he found himself face to face with a wall.

For a second the blonde just stood and stared, unable to make sense of the situation until Roxas saw what a quick tug revealed to be a rope, hanging in one corner and so well camouflaged against the rock that only someone with keen eyes would be able to spot it.

Roxas hesitantly tested the strength of his find then finally looked up and saw his way out, a small opening roughly ten feet up the rock. At that point he understood the reason behind the rope, even a tall person like Oren would need a bit of help scaling the wall. Roxas, not being particularly blessed when it came to his height relied heavily on the rope, the climb feeling a lot more difficult than he would expect due to his already tired and sore body.

Eventually he made it to the top and pulled himself over with a wince. The blonde lay there for a moment, waiting for the burning in his muscles to grow bearable again before he staggered to his feet.

Nobody was in sight. The cave opened out onto a hillside, the land quite flat close to the entrance but suddenly dropping quite steeply a short distance away. In front of him lay the remains of a fire, the faintly glowing embers and the relaxed spiral of smoke signalling that it had not been left unattended for that long. Roxas searched the horizon but could see nothing but brown sand and mountains. There was no hint of human presence for miles.

_Where am I? _

Roxas glanced around desperately.

_How did I get here?_

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

_Where __is __my __pendant?_

There was no answer.

The blonde dropped to his knees. He didn't know what to do.

Roxas stared at his trembling hands, noticing absentmindedly that there was dirt under his fingernails, something he couldn't ever remember happening before. He lowered his hands to the fabric of his trousers, feeling all the tears and grime rub under his fingertips as he brushed away a layer of dust.

His clothes weren't meant to be like this. He was a prince of the Tàiyáng family, the prince, the one that mattered. He was supposed to wear the finest silks and never be sullied by something as common as dirt. He wasn't supposed to chase after bandits or collapse onto riverbeds, yet Roxas had. So what did that make him? A failure? An idiot?

_A disgrace?_

"No!" Roxas leapt to his feet and set off determinedly down the hill. He would not be beaten by this. He could not be beaten by this. He would find the thief, find the crest and find a way out of this godforsaken desert. He would not bring disgrace upon the Tàiyáng family, not now, not ever.

So he swore.

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><p><em>Sunset.<em>

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><p>Cold.<p>

Hot.

Thirsty.

The world looked simpler from this angle, the blonde mused. Nicer. The sun wasn't setting, it was just slipping behind the land, like a servant would slip back behind the door after peeking to see whether he was in his bed or not. Which he was. Always, because unlike Sora he knew that sneaking out was unbecoming of somebody of his standing.

Roxas wanted to laugh because the idea of trying to get away from home was suddenly very funny to him, but he felt like he'd swallowed broken glass so he settled for giving the pebble in front of him a weak grin. He waited for it to smile back until he realised it would not return the gesture because unlike him it did not possess a sense of humour, as it was a rock.

Surely the fact that he couldn't feel anything wouldn't be funny but for some reason it was. He knew that the left side of his face was pressed against the ground but his right wasn't, which meant that it was cleaner than the left side, which would be funny to see if he could get up and find a mirror. …But if the entire left side of his body was pressed against the ground then that meant it was all dirty, so he was half clean and half dirty.

Was that even allowed?

And now somebody was knocking on the door. No, not a door, the _sky_, Roxas amended, because nearly fainting in a desert did not make him an idiot and he knew for certain that there were no doors in deserts. Or maybe there were and he just hadn't seen them before- and was the knocking getting louder or was he just imagining it?

And wait, you can't knock on the sky… because you'd have to be on top of a mountain to be able to reach it in the first place. And Roxas had passed the last mountain –or maybe it had been a hill- a while back, so clearly he was losing his mind.

The blonde blinked. That wasn't very funny.

Roxas knew he should be looking for that funny crest but he was tired, he couldn't move, even breathing was hard. Lying on the ground made him feel… content. Or at least it would if that damn knocking would stop- _oh __no_, he just swore. That wasn't acceptable behaviour but luckily no one heard him do it because there was no one else in this desert with him, except for the sun and the pebble. And Roxas was sure that they wouldn't tell a soul.

That damn knocking. It was getting louder. Who would call at this hour?

Somebody rude. Probably Sora. Or maybe the other brother, he was definitely rude enough.

Roxas shut his eyes. The knocking stopped, then started again, just softer with a different rhythm. Only his left ear could hear the knocking he realised, his right ear was hearing something else, something which swished like a river did. But since when did rivers sigh?

Someone started knocking on his shoulder. Roxas wasn't pleased, he was not a door, he should not be knocked on. Also he was a prince, and princes and knocking don't even mingle with one another. Whoever was knocking on him was an idiot. Probably Sora. Definitely the other brother.

He opened his mouth to say this but nothing came out, his words must have gotten stuck on the broken glass in his throat. He reopened his eyes and saw a pair of boots.

Then the world tipped itself upside down, the boots disappeared and Roxas realised the sun was actually rising into the ground and it was the sky which was below him. Somehow that wasn't right, but it was funny.

Roxas smiled and closed his eyes again.

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><p><strong>My feet are cold. And I just ate the last biscuit. Sad times.<strong>

It wasn't my intention to update so late but I underestimated how much work I would be getting this year so sorry about that. But I have a week off now so with luck I'll be able to get a decent amount of Chapter Four (which looks like it will be very long) completed. In other news, please review. I know good authors should never ask for people to review but I'm arguably not a good author so hah, this is allowed. :3


	4. Chapter 4

**Author: **bbb136 **Beta: **Rocket-ship-Romance – cheers!

You guys are so freaking awesome. Seriously, I read your reviews and by the end of it I'm grinning like an idiot. Thank you so much for being so great, you put me on twenty too! :D Especially you anonymous reviwers , it frustrates me so much that I can't reply back and posting replies in the A/N is now against the rules- the stuff you say deserves a soppy, embarrassing message which I would be so happy to give.

So I'm going to quickly thank everybody who commented on the last chapter here; Ahkutet (i love how you're so happy!), baileymermaid95, Rikuobsession (you are a star, your words meant a lot), Trooty (reliable and lovely), Conductor of Darkness , bitterbeauty813. You rule so much. I hope you enjoy this.

A/N- This chapter randomly got deleted. Don't understand why or how but eh, it's up again. Woo.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kingdom Hearts.

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><p>There's a figure on the cliff.<p>

The figure's arms are folded, and their shoulders are shaking.

_The bonds that tie you together are never broken. It is easier to try and escape from your own shadow._

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><p>Not for the first time that day Axel wondered what Reno would have done if he had been in his place.<p>

Why he kept doing this he couldn't say, he knew that his brother would probably have acted similarly to him (though the redhead doubted he would have spared the Noble a second time) but something about the boy triggered long buried memories to resurface, memories he couldn't help but dwell on.

Axel plucked the cup from its place next to the fire and gave it a hesitant taste. He rolled the mixture around his mouth for a moment testing it, before putting it back; recognising that it hadn't yet had enough time and heat to be useful to him.

On an afterthought he added some cinnamon, and hoped fervently that it would improve the flavour.

Absent-mindedly brushing the spice off of his fingers with a small cloth, Axel leant back and stared at the stars.

Now that he thought about it, leaving the Noble alone in his cave really hadn't been the smartest of ideas. He should have realised that if the boy could endure hours of fighting during the middle of the day -in a _desert _as well- then the time it took to recover from something as tame as passing out wouldn't be that extensive.

Yet he'd decided to dismiss the logic in favour of a trip to find some desert herbs, and ended up returning to an empty cave as a result. Reno _would_ be proud.

At least he knew now not to ever underestimate the Noble again, solace only being found in the knowledge that the blonde's desire to kill him would increase tenfold once he learnt of the security measures Axel had carried out.

Imaging his reaction brought a smile to his face and the redhead fought down the urge to chuckle, too appreciative of the light silence to disturb it. The trouble would be worth it - better an angry prisoner than one which could potentially slit his throat when his back was turned; and he could always gag him if he got too loud.

Axel was tempted to gag him regardless of his future behaviour- the brat annoyed him.

Gagging a Tàiyáng prince. _Huh_. That would definitely be a sight to behold.

Somewhere in the night an eagle cried. A short distance away the black mare the Noble had chased him on raised her head and answered with a neigh. Axel raised an eyebrow at the odd gesture and turned his attention to his own horse, watching for her reaction. He'd noticed (with interest) that Sauveter had remained constantly suspicious of the other female, obviously taking no joy in her presence around her master.

He was curious to see how she'd act if the mare did irritate her; she tended to be indifferent towards other animals, unless they posed a threat of course. Then she never failed to be beautifully brutal in her treatment. But he couldn't imagine such a droopy, hollow-eyed creature ever being a threat, especially not to _him._

All Sauveter did was turn her head towards her master and huff, flicking her tail in the way that Axel knew meant annoyance.

How dull. He huffed too.

He looked at the stars for a little while longer, thinking about nothing and everything but predictably his mind wandered back to his day and consequently the Noble, and soon he found himself frowning again.

Sauveter had been strangely… accepting of the Noble. He had known her for so long that seeing that she didn't hate the boy's presence (or like it, for that matter) was not particularly challenging.

_Only_ _intriguing, _Axel thought pensively. His horse never welcomed strangers.

Glancing at the heavens again, the redhead realised Sauveter probably wanted to rest. He summoned her with a hand and began to carefully remove her saddle while the black mare regarded them impassively.

Usually the process relaxed him –he had always liked the touch of leather under his fingertips- but he was too busy musing over the Noble to get even one buckle undone properly. Sauveter remained still and quiet the whole time he fumbled with her straps but the redhead knew that in her own way she was frowning at him.

"My mind's on other things," He offered as a means of explanation and she nodded her head in understanding.

_And __how __irritating __it __was, _Axel remarked to himself bitterly.

He had intended just to let the Noble escape with his guards but as that plan had been damned to hell he was at a real loss for what to do now.

He had toyed the idea of just killing him, it _would_ end the entire situation quickly but the redhead was loathe to make the trouble with his gang for letting the convoy go be all for nothing. But the only other option would be to escort the Noble out of the desert himself, and his pride burned at the mere thought of that.

It was exasperating. Axel would have to sacrifice something either way and do it soon- the Noble couldn't stay in the desert any longer. He did not belong.

_Although_. The redhead finally finished with Sauveter and dropped the saddle down next to him. He tested the mixture again and seeing that it was finally warm downed it in one swallow, grimacing at the foul taste. Axel noted that cinnamon only made the flavour worse.

Everything about the Noble was surprising. He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever been so entertained, even if said entertainment had cost him a bruise or ten. Axel was reluctant to let go of something which was proving to be so incredibly interesting, not when the desert, for all its charm and mystery was so dull in comparison.

He felt the weight of a gaze and he raised his head, frowning when he saw that the black mare was still staring at him unblinkingly. Sensing his annoyed mood in seconds Sauveter trotted over to the mare and stamped her hoof down hard, communicating in own her language to _back __down,_ but the mare did not heed her.

The mare only looked away when Axel, sensing an impending attack on his behalf, told it to do so sternly. But even then the mare's movements had been too slow.

This confirmed his suspicions that the mare had been one of the convoy. He'd heard of creatures like this mare through Lee, they possessed no instinct because it had been beaten out of it since birth, they were broken animals, mindless things. Only a wealthy family would be able to afford such _training_, and Axel wondered how much he could get for the mare when he passed it on.

He examined the horses coat the best he could with the light from the fire and nodded approvingly, and pulled his cloak over him a little more. At least _one_ problem the Noble had brought with him had been resolved.

_Speaking of which._

Axel glanced back at the cave and wondered if it was time to check on the boy's state. It had only been an hour since his last look and at that point he'd been out cold, but since the boy had proven himself to be quick at recovering Axel decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

It was getting late anyway.

He gave Sauveter an affectionate pat as he passed her and watched as she settled herself by the fire, before he turned and looked expectantly at the black mare, who in turn looked blankly at him. Axel sighed and pointed towards the fire impatiently, scowling as only then did the mare slowly make her way over. He was beginning to dislike the animal.

Unsurprisingly Sauveter huffed in irritation when the mare sank down next to her and made signs of getting up. Axel shot her a look warning her to behave before he disappeared inside the cave, slipping down the rope with ease.

He walked down the short passage and (as he predicted) the blonde was beginning to show signs of waking up; his brows were furrowed, he was restless and he repeatedly groaned – the redhead did not envy him the headache the boy was sure to have.

Axel dropped his cloak down beside the pained Noble and examined the few candles he'd lit, blowing two out when he realised they were starting to burn a little too low. Wax in a desert was precious and he'd found only a couple of candles in the convoy wagons.

Then he began to remove his boots and his outer layers, throwing the various pieces of clothing into the far corner of the cave where they landed in a messy pile.

A particularly clumsy throw sent a goblet flying, the noise echoed around the cave and the Noble abruptly woke up.

The first thing he said was- "Ah!" Axel paused and looked at him.

"I wondered when you were going to wake up." He remarked dryly. "How typical that it's when I want to sleep."

The Noble didn't appear to hear him, too busy hissing as his headache (or so the redhead presumed) drove him to curl in on himself, muttering what sounded suspiciously like curses.

Axel sighed and went to fetch his flask.

Once he'd found it he crouched down beside the blonde, and after dropping a few herbs which soothed pain inside and giving the flask a swirl, lifted his golden head up with one hand and urged him to drink with the other.

Like before the blonde immediately latched on and drank with a speed which rivalled Sauveter after a hard day's ride, gulping the liquid down desperately. Axel was hard pressed to spot any of the grace and elegance a noble would usually command, something he found incredibly amusing considering the proud words spoken to him earlier, and he smirked as he lowered the boy's head back down.

The Noble groaned and slowly started to open his eyes.

There was a moment – a very short and fleeting one but none the less, still there- when they just stared at each other without saying a word. Then the blonde realised who'd just been giving him water and jumped back.

Or at least he tried to, anyway.

Axel watched with glee as the blonde flailed wildly on the bed for a minute before freezing, and shooting him a look of pure outrage.

"You tied me up?" The boy asked incredulously.

Axel grinned, nodding.

"_Why?"_

"Security, so you don't run away again. And you're welcome, by the way."

The boy glowered at him, looking angry and confused. "For what?"

"Going out to find you of course." Axel explained, waving one hand carelessly in the air. "If I wasn't such a good tracker you would have died out there."

The blonde gaped at him – Axel wondered if this was the first time the boy _hadn__'__t_ been treated like a God before- before resuming his furious struggle to break free. The redhead eyed him tiredly and folded his arms, exhaling loudly.

"Don't bother." He advised. "I tie good knots."

His words were ignored so the redhead shrugged and began pulling off his shirt.

Instantly the Noble froze. "What are you doing!"

* * *

><p>The bandit jerked round. "What?" He asked, something akin to surprise colouring his voice.<p>

Roxas shrank back against the mounds of treasure, tensing his limbs so that the bandit couldn't see that they were trembling. "Don't." was all he could say.

The redhead gave him a strange look and removed his shirt completely. "What the hell is wrong with- _careful_!"

In a flash his hand shot out and yanked the blonde back onto the bed. Roxas, who had been inching backwards yelped and tried to wriggle out of his grip. "Let go of me!" He cried.

The redhead scowled, his grip not faltering. "Hey, stop squirming, you were about to knock over that vase!"

Roxas didn't register the comment. He twisted his body into crazy positions, doing his best to throw off the hands that were clamped around his upper arms while still tied up. All in vain, because no matter how much power he put behind his movements the redhead still held on and he could not get free.

They struggled for a few minutes before the man lost patience with him.

"That is it!"

To the blonde's alarm he suddenly found himself flat on his back, his bound arms digging painfully into his side and his legs trapped between the bandits. Two pale hands pushed forcefully at his shoulders and added with the bandit's weight, put a decisive halt to all attempts to escape.

His heart jumped in his throat.

The bandit glared down at him, mouth set in a harsh line and his unnaturally green eyes narrowed menacingly. "What," He began quietly. "Is wrong with you?"

Roxas shrank into the bed, suddenly understanding what a cornered mouse felt like. "…W-what do you mean?" He snapped.

His expression grew considerably more irritated. "Your little fit. Please don't tell me you're insane as well as loud."

"Y-you have no right to question me!"

The bandit started at that. "No… right?" The redhead said slowly, a faraway look in his eyes.

Then he laughed.

It was delighted and cruel, and there was a slightly maniacal edge to it which made Roxas wish even more desperately to be anywhere else but here.

"Oh little prince," The redhead murmured once his laughter had subsided and stopped echoing around the cave. "That means nothing in this desert. Outside, in your towns and cities your words would have more authority but _not __here._Here you are defined by how long you can survive- and if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be breathing right now."

The blonde inhaled sharply when the redhead suddenly leaned right down, so close that his scarlet bangs were tickling the boy's forehead. But he had no desire to laugh.

"Here," The man whispered into his mouth. "I can do whatever I want."

Maybe it had been the fact that only an inch of air separated them. Maybe it had been the low tone, or the way his words had oozed like honey. Maybe it had been because he was so certain of the bandit's intent. Roxas would think back on this later, more than once, and obsess over the many reasons which could have caused him to cry after so many years of not shedding a single tear, but there had only ever been one thought running through his mind.

_I__'__ll __be __ruined. _"Please…"

The bandit abruptly drew back, looking for all the world quite startled. Roxas knew that his reaction was justified, men were not supposed to cry. Or beg.

But sometimes men had to, for the greater good.

"Please don't. I can't." His voice broke a little. Now the bandit was frowning, disbelief evident in his face. His eyes quickly flittered up and down the blonde's body and his brows furrowed.

"What?" It was Roxas's turn to be startled. He'd never –and never would, not even if he grew to know the redhead as well as he did his own brother- expect to hear such a naked word leave those lips.

It threw him a little, and for a moment they shared equally lost stares.

Then understanding dawned on the redhead's face and he froze. Then chuckled.

"Oh. _Oh._ No wonder you were so scared."

The bandit shook his head, smiling with what could only be described as cold amusement because while it did not reach his eyes _it __did._

One hand left the blonde's shoulder and caught his face in a strong grip, turning it away to the side and holding it there. "Listen, your lordship…"

With his head at that angle the only view of the bandit Roxas could glimpse was a distorted reflection, studying him carelessly from a gilded plate. He watched, limbs paralysed with sheer _emotion_ as the reflection brought it's mouth down to his ear and said quite clearly, " You should relax. If I wanted _that _I would have done it already."

Then the redhead withdrew and Roxas was pulled roughly off the bed and deposited in a heap at the bottom. He winced as he landed on his bound arms and the tears which had stopped with the redhead's earlier surprise began to leak out again, but not because of the pain in his wrists.

"I was going to let you sleep on the bed," He heard the bandit say. "God knows it would be more comfortable after a day like today, but if you're so worried…" There was a small pause. "Well, the floor's where you'll stay."

There was rustling and out of the corner of his eye the boy could see the redhead stretching out on his bed, running one hand through his long hair and snatching a blanket with the other. The way the pale fingers played with a loose thread was almost hypnotic but it did nothing to slow his racing heart.

It felt like fear was actually rushing up his throat, it being so unnatural and unwelcome in his body that he wanted to actually _vomit_ to get rid of it, stop it pushing liquid out through his eyes.

Control was slipping away from him and Roxas bit his lip so hard that it drew blood, and while it _hurt_ it also brought a little sense with it and put a chain around his fear, albeit a weak one. He could think again.

It only took a second to decide to blank out everything that had just happened – it could hurt him later. Now he had to find his pendant and escape.

The blonde thought that, then remembered with a sickening jolt that he was tied up, and unable to go anywhere. _For __now, _he promised himself, not daring to attract the bandit's attention again with an order to release him.

His eyes stared at the shadows on the cave's ceiling, his mind preoccupied with figuring out how to survive the no doubt taxing ordeal ahead. He didn't waste a moment wondering if _he_ would get any form of protection from the desert night, he was resigned to spending every moment freezing.

_Maybe to death._

Roxas accepted that, so when a blanket was suddenly thrown onto him, followed a few seconds later by a thick cloak which a pair of clumsy hands rearranged across his form; he was too shocked to even flinch.

He sent the bandit a quick look, half fear and half curiosity, and the redhead, who was now in the middle of blowing out the few candles that were lit, caught it and shrugged dismissively. "Desert nights are cruel." He said. "Nobody can sleep through them with only their clothes for warmth, and I'd like to sleep without you waking me up."

The warning was obvious.

The redhead blew out the final candle and the cave fell into blackness. The blonde heard the man settle back onto the bed, turn a few times, then make no other sound other than his slow breathing.

Roxas continued to listen for a while then curled inwards, turning away from the bed even though his instincts screamed at him not to leave his back open to attack.

He didn't know what to think about. Everything brought him pain but his mind could not stay peacefully blank for long. But to sleep…

Sleep meant dreaming, and now Roxas was scared to dream. Thoughts you could control, but dreams were wild.

"Axel."

The sudden voice made him jump and the blonde's eyes shot back to where he knew the Desert Snake was. _What __did __he __say?_

"Axel. My name is Axel."

_His name?_

For a moment Roxas felt genuinely quite confused until he realised that the Desert Snake could not be the bandit's real name.

"Oh." He heard himself whisper, and silence reigned again.

The part of him that lived for honour and civility called for him to return the gesture with his own name, but his mouth stayed firmly shut.

Axel never asked.

Roxas didn't get much sleep that night.

* * *

><p><strong>Finishing this chapter put me in such a sense of calm, I've never written anything and felt so understanding of the characters and their lives before. You can't beat the feeling you get when you write a story and really, <em>really<em> feel it.**

I chose to end the chapter here because I felt continuing on would undermine the significance of the chapters events. But anyway, thanks again for the reviews and support. :) Please continue to be awesome, and remember - it's hard to think of wise advice if you're doing it right on the spot. (...)

-In case there are any serious game freaks like me in the audience, Assassins Creed: Revelations –OMG. I got to play it early because my dearest brother is a game reviewer AND I HAVE FOUND A REPLACEMENT FOR BREATHING! -runs off to obsess over AC in a corner-


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